If You Say So
by RheesMag
Summary: Tag to 4x16. Mary struggles to accept the fact that her youngest is dead. Through the pain that encompasses her heart, a mother and son push through their pain to say goodbye.


If You Say So

Four words.

One simple meaning intertwined with many others.

The last words that her son ever spoke to her while he was on his way to the map room to present himself as a tour guide to the new people the group had just seen scale the wall outside the compound. Her youngest had always been sociable with people, interacting with others in the hope they would end up staying at Terminus despite the rarity they ever did. Alex smiled at her with a warmth that carried her through the dark days inside the train car.

"Where are you going?" Mary asked, holstering her gun to take with her outside.

"To the map room. Gare's got some people comin' in."

Mary nodded, even though it always made her nervous when one of her own was in the position of interacting with people who may or may not have less than honorable intentions. Greg had been taking over tour duty the last few months, but after Gareth decided he was getting too friendly with the women who came through, he reassigned him to the slaughter room to help Cam and Zero.

"Be careful," Mary whispered, muttering words that she had spoken at least half a dozen times since becoming a mother.

"If you say so," Alex jested.

One second was all it took.

One second for Rick to grab her son from behind, and use him as a human shield.

One second for Cam to fire his weapon when Gareth signaled for him to do so. Less than one second for the bullet to hit her son in the head, and kill him instantly. The amount of time it took for that to happen was nothing at all, but it felt like a thousand years to Mary while she struggled to hold her place beside the grill and not do anything to exacerbate the situation. Her son was trembling, and it broke her heart when she knew what a compassionate heart he had. His hands were up in a surrendering motion, but Rick refused to let him go.

When the bullet was fired and her son dropped to the ground, her instincts guided her as she got out of the line of fire and retreated to a safe place inside the compound where she would be far removed from the round up. Her hands shook uncontrollably, and she fought the tears that threatened to escape past her eyes. Alex was dead. He was _dead_ just like her husband and their family and friends. He dropped the instant Cam fired the shot and hit him instead of Rick. The bullet wound that got him in the head, was on full display but she did not look at it.

Leaning against the wall, she allowed herself to feel the full weight of what was happening to her. One piece of her heart had been stolen from her and she knew it would never return. Mary's heart had been broken before when her husband died, but this was a pain that only a mother would be able to appreciate. Her boys reserved a special place in her heart, and that position had never been vacated until her youngest was shot dead in front of her. Aware that she was crying when she felt moisture on her cheeks, she wiped the smudge of makeup from her eyes, and tried to regain function of her frozen limbs.

Hearing footsteps come around the corner, she ferociously rubbed her fingers through her tear-soaked eyes. The last thing she wanted was to be confronted by someone who would see her as someone other than the strong woman who helped lead them in the early days after regaining Terminus. Although her son was a much better leader than she would ever be, Gareth counted on her to help him establish control once again after they took down the bandits. Relaxing when she saw Gareth stop in front of her, it was impossible to tell what her son was really feeling when he locked down any and all emotion when dealing with the enemy. When she looked close enough, she could see a smidgen of pain that was hidden behind a calmness that scared her.

Gareth was anything but heartless, but the job was what kept him from feeling the brunt of what his mother was walking through. Mary wished she had something that would take the pain from her heart; she wished she had something that she could lean toward to keep her from falling under because of this. It was obvious Gareth saw the tears that coated his mother's eyes, and she did not reject him when he stepped forward and embraced her. Surprised he was letting himself go so soon after the round-up, she clutched him with a strength that shocked her. Gareth not only hugged her, but he held her as though he never wanted to let go.

A private moment that was everything to her in that moment as she forced herself to focus on the one living son she still had left. Gareth's jaw twitched as though he was trying to keep himself from crying, and she wished he would not bother to do that. Even though he was letting her into his solitary pain, he would not let himself cry like she was. That was something he only did in the most extreme circumstances. Almost as though her mind was pushing everything to the front, she saw his tear-glistened eyes after she was thrown back into the train car after her rape. The men cruelly laughed at their actions, and dragged someone else to replace her. Back then, tears had been a common theme for them.

"They took Rick and the others to the killing floor," Gareth said. His voice was different; removed and detached like it had been in the train car. It terrified her to think they were going back to that period of time. "It shouldn't be too long now."

Mary nodded, feeling nothing but contempt for the man who killed her son. "At least we know it will be over soon. Did you...did you see him?"

Gareth did not do (or _say_ anything) for what seemed like several minutes where Mary already knew the answer. It was an issue that had been hotly debated when they first made the turn to cannibalism: What would they do if one of them were to die? Would they eat their own brother, mother, or son? If so, would the meal be eaten in private with just the remaining family members? Or would they socialize with the rest of the community like they always did? At the time, Mary agreed that her own body should (and would) be used if the time came. Gareth and Alex agreed to the same thing, but she could not stomach the thought of eating her son.

The boy who grew up to be a sweet, kindhearted man who genuinely cared about the people who came through the doors of Terminus. That was why Alex was never able to venture across the killing floor because he was never able to see the dinner he was about to eat. Mary had the same reservations about watching helpless people being butchered like they were cattle, but she had gained a certain distance from it that her son was never able to have. Picking up her fork and using it to eat his meat, was absolutely horrifying to her. She would much rather have a burial for Alex, and keep the possessions he had when he died.

"For a minute," Gareth finally said. "I went in there to get some information from Rick. Seems to think he'll live to see the day where he kills me."

"You can't let it get to you."

"I don't." He replied a little too quickly for Mary's liking. One of the perks of being his mother was knowing when he was feeling a certain way. "It doesn't seem real."

"No. It doesn't."

Mary leaned against the wall when she was quite certain she would not be able to hold herself upright any longer. The festering pain in her soul was getting worse by the second every time she saw the graphic visions in her mind of her son being shot. Almost as if she was still there, she could hear the _bang_ of the gun and the soft thump his body made when it met the cement.

"Would it...would it be too outrageous if I said that I didn't want to-"

"No," Gareth interjected, changing course to stride outside. Following him, he led her past the courtyard and out to the field that was full of thriving grass and crops. Moving past the fence Gareth held open for her, she silently followed him across the expansive field to a small section that was peaceful with flowers and small stones arranged to form a protective circle around freshly dug ground. "This is...this is where I thought we could bury him."

"I like it," Mary replied without hesitation. "He would have liked it, too."

Gareth smiled; it did not reach his eyes the way it should have. Extending her hand to his face, Mary gently palmed his cheek the way she always did whenever he was upset. It was only then that she was able to see the depth of his pain for the loss of his only brother. Tears dotted Gareth's eyes despite his efforts to keep them at bay.

"I was thinking," Gareth said, shaking his head as though it was stupid. "What if we forget-"

"Forget him?" Mary interrupted, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

Gareth shrugged. "Yeah."

"I know," Mary said, closing the distance that separated them. "When Daddy first died, I had the same thoughts, honey. I worried I would forget how he smelled, and the sound of his voice. Everything."

Gareth nodded. "He was always a Momma's boy. Remember that? He couldn't go a night without giving you a hug goodnight. Even last night he did it."

"I sure do remember that."

There were a thousand moments and memories that made up her life with Alex. The thought of somehow going on without him? That was too impossible for Mary to think about consciously. Running a hand through her eyes at the thought of living their lives without his sweet nature, she could not control the gasp that came from her when Gareth rummaged through a gym bag that contained Alex's clothes. Taking the hoodie that he died in, she fingered the soft fabric, and did not tear her eyes from it until Gareth put his hand on her shoulder. He had the rest of Alex's clothes, and was fingering them as though they were made of the most delicate material.

This burial would not be shared with the rest of the community, but would instead be something that a mother and her remaining son would have together. There was only one other time where Mary actually saw her son shed tears, and that was during the occupation when the bandits chose her as their favorite victim. Unable to see her children in pain for any reason, she rested her head on his shoulder, before leaning down to place the hoodie in the ground. Touching her fingers to her lips, she then placed her fingers on the ground. They were living on the edge of the world, and yet they still had funerals for those they loved.

This funeral would be unlike anything else they had prior to that, and Mary was glad for that fact.


End file.
